All Those Reasons
by Anne Maria
Summary: Padmé lies dying at Polis Massa, and reflects on all the reasons why letting go is not an option.


**Title**: All Those Reasons  
**Author**: AnneLily  
**Timeframe: **RotS  
**Summary**: Padmé lies dying at Polis Massa.  
**Disclaimer:** No profit is being made from this, since none of these characters belongs to me, they're all George Lucas property (although he _does_ mistreat them an awful lot).  
**AN**: Personally, I don't like RotS. I just can't believe Anakin could have ever done such an awful thing to his angel. But the plot bunny bit, and it just wouldn't leave me alone. And I really need to get some sleep at night. So here it is, though I'm still trying to find out where it came from.

Read and review, please! Feedback is always treasured.

She lay on the medcenter bed, the cold, bitter lights in the sterile white room hurting her sore eyes, as she reflected on the sensations running through her body and her mind.

She was tired, so tired. After a lifetime of struggling, of striving to always bring the best out of people, of teaching herself to be calm and diplomatic and try to talk her fellow politicians into being just, fair, compassionate, into thinking of common welfare rather than personal issues; a lifetime of sacrifices, of giving up her own needs to serve her people, of putting aside the chances of a personal life, of a romantic involvement, of a family, perhaps, time and again, to battle for democracy, she was tired. She was exhausted.

And the past few years had left little time to rest. First the attempts on her life three years ago by the Separatists, the subsequent Clone Wars, finding out that an army had been created for the Republic without their knowledge, that in her absence Chancellor Palpatine had taken on special powers that defied the very democracy she had believed in since she had first understood its meaning, the constant struggles in the Senate to bring order back… So much had been going on, so much she had had to face. All she wanted now was to finally close her eyes and rest, drift into oblivion, forget about the past, and the pain, and…

And yet they were asking of her the strenuous effort of completing this last, vital task. The voices around her urged her to stay alive, to fight for them. And then she remembered. _Them_. Her children. She was having twins. Unimpeded, the idea that Anakin would have loved to have twins found its way to her mind. He had been so lonely during most of his life… Anakin… The stab of pain that shot through her soul at the memory of Anakin and the past hours made an anguished wail come to her lips.

Padmé Amidala had been a composed politician ever since she could remember. However, she wasn't a politician anymore. There wasn't even a Senate to serve anymore, anyway. But most of all, at this moment she was just a woman; a woman whose world had fallen apart, a woman whose soul had been shattered into a myriad of minuscule shards by the person she loved most and trusted most in the entire galaxy.

And so she cried. She cried in anguish, in frustration, in disappointment. She cried because of all the broken promises that now lay behind them, because of all the moments that were now doomed, because she was bringing into the world two children that would never get to know their father, who was now a traitor, a deserter… She cried because her dreams of raising her child in Naboo, her beloved homeworld, of retiring and leading a quiet, family life had now been crushed to ashes, and would forever lie with her in her cold grave.

She cried because she was dying, and she knew it. She would never be able to go on without Anakin. Because, what reason was there for her to live now that she would never again wake up to the sight of her beloved husband lying beside her in their bed, now that they would never again share their hopes and plans for the future, would never again laugh together at some silly joke made by her? Anakin had always loved her poor sense of humour.

But Anakin wasn't here now, and he would never again be. He was gone, he had fallen into the smouldering lava at Mustafar, fallen into the lair of lies Palpatine had set before him. He had fallen to the darkside, and he had fallen because of her.

She was a fighter. All of her life she had been a fighter. Back in her early years, while studying first, and then in the Apprentice Legislature, she had worked hard to hone her abilities, in order to fight for her people as best she could. She had fought for them as Princess, and as Queen, had faced the traitorous Nute Gunray during the Trade Federation Blockade of Naboo, gained freedom for her world by herself, with the aid of the Naboo and the Gungans, defying an unhelpful Senate. She had served two terms as Queen, to become a Senator afterwards. Whoever dared say she was not a fighter, was sadly mistaken. She was brave, and strong. But her strength was waning. The source of that strength gone, she couldn't go on. She couldn't bring herself to put back together the pieces of her broken heart. Where would she find the power to start again, alone?

Her inner turmoil was suddenly brought to a halt, as she realised Obi-Wan was standing beside her, a preoccupied expression evident on his countenance. He had brought one of the babies to her, for her to see it, to say hello to her firstborn. "It's a boy," he stated.

Padmé remember the late night discussions she and Anakin had held concerning the child, its possible gender and the names they would like to give him or her, and softly, weakly, whispered back Anakin's choice, "Luke." It was fitting, she thought. The calmed look her baby boy sent her way filled her with peace. Yes, this was the right name for her son, it was all right to give him the name his father had bestowed upon him, even though he wouldn't be there to call him by it. While she was still lost in these painful memories, his little sister joined him.

The sight of her children together, of their quiet, tiny forms resting in the arms of the venerable Jedi Master, brought a smile to her face, in spite of all the bitter-sweet feelings plaguing her. They were so small, so defenceless. The thought assaulted her abruptly that these two children were going to face a galaxy into which havoc had just been wrought. A shiver went down her spine. Her children didn't have a father now. Would she leave them motherless, too? Would she place the burden on other shoulders, let other people raise them, these, her surely Force-strong children, who would need a caring presence by their side, to teach them, to guide them, to show them how to become good, considerate, gentle people, in order to prepare them for what challenges were certain to come in their future?

Now she wasn't so sure about her vanishing forces. Perhaps, she would be able to go on. She had a purpose, a reason. The love she felt inside her for her newborn children grew, and multiplied tenfold. They needed her. Their presence was a beacon of tranquillity for her, and she felt inevitably attracted to them, she felt their silent pleas, felt them calling for her.

Padmé Naberrie Skywalker gave a deep sigh, exhaustion washing over her, pushing her determination to its limit. But she hadn't been strong-headed all of her life for nothing. She had fought and won many a battle in her past. She would succeed in this, too. She would get over her grief. She would leave behind her life with Anakin. She would forget he had once called her an angel, and vowed to defy all rules for her. She would go ahead and live solely for her children. A part of her still clung to the belief that there was good left in him, but there was nothing she could do about it at the moment. Her children were her priority. In her heart of hearts, though, she knew she would never forget. Not a single second. She still loved him too much for that. But she would bury her love and everything they had shared deep within herself, and make sure her children never knew, never found out who their father was; or rather, who he had become.

And so, making her decision and her commitment, she spoke to Obi-Wan, determination filling her voice this time, "Leia."

He smiled, warmly, encouragingly. He knew, and somehow, she knew he knew. But all the same, she added, quietly, pleadingly, "Help me, Obi-Wan. Help me live for my children."

Still smiling, and cradling Luke and Leia carefully in his arms, Obi-Wan stepped aside and allowed the Polis Massan medics and their med-droids to go back to their task.

Padmé Skywalker, wife and Senator, was dead. Padmé Naberrie, mother of two, would live.


End file.
